


The Other Side of Brooklyn

by LesPhansie



Category: Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: I wanna hug Race, and Spot, not sprace, they are just friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-18
Updated: 2018-11-18
Packaged: 2019-08-25 08:02:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16657327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LesPhansie/pseuds/LesPhansie
Summary: Race realizes that Brooklyn may not be as bad as he thinks it is.





	The Other Side of Brooklyn

**Author's Note:**

> This one is pretty short, but that's how pretty much all of my stories turn out.

"Spare me a penny Mista? I haven't eaten in days."

The man who the blond haired boy had stopped rolled his eyes and fumbled in his pocket for a penny. He tossed it at the boy who immediately stuffed it in his pocket. From the looks of the man who was wearing a nice suit and a fancy pocket watch most likely could've gave more, but would rather keep his money than give it to a street rat. Race didn't care though, a penny was better than nothing.

After he had finished selling his papes earlier, Race secretly went to Brooklyn to earn some extra money. He had tried a few different methods but found that begging worked the best. Race had earned at least twenty cents. He wanted to get more sympathy and hopefully more money, but it was getting dark so he decided to head back to Manhattan. If he didn't, Jack would freak out, but getting the extra money was partly for his sake.

Race was almost a the Brooklyn Bridge when he was suddenly pulled into an alley. "What the hell!" he yelled as a man pinned him up against the side of a building.

"Give me your money you punk," the man tightened his grip. Race could smell beer in the man's breath and his words were slurred. The other man behind him that held a nearly empty beer bottle was stumbling around. They were clearly drunk.

"I don't have any, let me go!" Race struggled against the man's grip.

"Don't believe ya," the man growled back as he shoved Race to the ground and slapped his face, making his cheek bleed. The man with the bottle raised it above his head and was about to smash it on Race, but luckily he was quick enough to roll to the side before it hit him. However a few glass shards lodged themselves in the boy's right arm. The first man kicked Race's stomach a few hard times and he doubled over in pain. The man the had the bottle punched him until he was happy that the injured boy's face was bruising and had a black eye.

The first man picked up a piece of glass from the broken bottle. Race's face turned pale as he realized that the man was coming over to him looking even more angry. "No, please!" Race managed to get out between sobs. All he got in response was a menacing laugh that reminded him too much of Snyder's when he beat him up at the Refuge.

Race let out a bloodcurdling scream as the man dragged the rough piece of glass across his right leg. There was a giant gash that went from the top of his leg to a little past the knee, and blood seemed to never stop coming out of the wound. Both the men stuck their hands in his pockets trying to get whatever money they could. Race tried hard not to cry as they took all of his earnings from begging and selling today's papers. They both kicked him one more time as they started to leave the alley. Little did they know another boy was standing there; one that wouldn't let them get away with what they just did.

"Now what do you bastards think that you're doing?" The boy entered the alley, arms crossed on his chest. "Now leave him alone and get out before I toss ya outta Brooklyn myself." Race knew he recognized that voice from somewhere but he couldn't quite piece it together. His head hurt too much to look up and see who it was.

The men seemed to listen to the angry boy and tried to get out of the alley before the boy blocked them. "Give me the money." He held out his hand.

"What money?" One of the men smirked as they tried to move past him.

"Don't act like you don't know. I saw you take it from him," the boy glared daggers at the men.

The man rolled his eyes. "Fine, if ya want it, go get it." He took the money out of his pocket and chucked it in the alley, coins bouncing everywhere.

The boy glared at both men as they staggered and stumbled away. Then he turned back to the alley, picking up the coins and stuffing them in his pocket to give to Race later. Race heard footsteps getting closer to him and he flinched and closed his eyes, expecting another hit.

"Hey kid, it's just me."

Race opened his eyes. "Spot?"

"Yeah," Spot replied as he kneeled down next to the boy. "You ok?"

"I-I don't know," Race answered. He usually would've said he was fine, especially in front of the King of Brooklyn himself, but his head and leg really hurt and he wasn't going to refuse help if Spot was offering it.

"Well, you look like crap. Let me help you get to the lodging house."

"I gotta go back, Jack-"

"Screw whatever Jack thinks now. You is hurt and ya won't get far looking like that."

Race realized that Spot was never gonna let him go back all the way to Manhattan in his condition, so he agreed. "Fine."

"Ok, let me try to pick you up," Spot said as he put his arms under Race's armpits. The injured boy winced in pain as he left the ground. "Sorry," Spot immediately apologized. He put Race's right arm around his shoulder and waited for him to steady himself before walking.

The way to the Brooklyn lodging house was terrible. Race's head was throbbing and his leg hurt like hell. He couldn't help but wonder how Crutchie put up with this every day. About a block away Race tripped. He would've face-planted if the Brooklyn boy didn't catch him.

"Are you sure you don't want me to carry you?" Spot asked. He knew the boy would refuse, but it wouldn't hurt to ask.

"No, we'se almost there anyways," Race said.

"Whatever. Suit yourself," Spot rolled his eyes. The boy was so stubborn sometimes.

After what felt like ages, they got to the lodging house and up the steps without too much trouble. As soon as they opened the door all eyes were on them and boys were immediately swarming them, curious to see what happened.

Spot wasn't in the mood to deal with anything else besides taking care of Race. "Ok," he yelled at his boys. "Let me through. Get back to whatever you was doing and be quiet. Got that?" Most of the boys nodded and went back. They didn't want their leader to get in a bad mood.

Spot led Race to an currently empty room and sat him down on a bed. "I'll be back. I'm gonna water and a rag," he said as he left the room. He filled up a small bucket of water and grabbed a few rags. When he came back to the room he saw that Race was already nodding off. "Hey, I need ya to stay awake. It's gonna be a whole lot harder if you don't." Race slowly opened his eyes and sat back up.

"Spot wet the rag and started to wipe it on the boy's dirty and bloodied face. "So what are ya doing in Brooklyn this time of night? Jack don't know, does he?"

"No," Race grimaced as Spot rubbed over his black eye.

"So why's ya here?" Spot stopped what he was doing to look Race in the eye.

"I have my reasons," Race stubbornly said.

"Hey, you can tell me," Spot set down the rag and started to pick out the glass shards in Race's arm without too much wincing.

Race was quiet and then sniffled. "I wanted to make some more money. Crutchie's crutch is getting kinda small so I wanted to get him a new one. Romeo needs new gloves. He's had his old one's with hole for years. And Jack, he's been having a rough patch with Katherine. Figured I could get him something to cheer him up. I left Manhattan because I knew Jack or one of the boys would find me and I wanted to get the money as soon as possible. I just wanna take care of my brothers." Race was on the verge of tears when he finished talking.

"You know Brooklyn's dangerous at night," Spot continued to pick at the glass.

"Course I knew that. It's just that I knew that someone would find me in 'Hattan," Race wiped away a tear.

Spot could see that the other boy was still stressed and shaken up. "You's an idiot."

"You's more an idiot," Race smiled and playfully smacked the Brooklyn leader on the arm.

Spot looked down at Race's bleeding leg. "Great, now for the fun part."

"I'm gonna fix up your leg before it gets any worse." Race nodded in agreement. Spot took a clean rag and wet it. Race yelled out in pain as the cloth passed over the wound. The bleeding gradually slowed down and eventually stopped. Spot found a cloth to wrap around his leg. He thought that it would work until he could get better help.

"You just lay down and go to sleep. I'll get ya back to Manhattan in the morning," Spot took the bucket and rags and started to leave the room.

"Wait," Race called out. The boy turned around to face the one in the bed. "Why's you even helping me?"

"'Cause I can," Spot said as he tried leaving again.

"That's a crappy reason. You usually don't help no one but your boys."

"I said I did 'cause I can," Spot crossed his arms across his chest.

"You'se aren't telling me something. I know it," Race said as he slowly sat up in the bed.

Spot sighed. He knew that Race wasn't gonna stop pestering him unless he got an answer that he was satisfied with. "A couple years ago one of my boys, Billy, got real sick. I didn't exactly know what he caught, but I knew one of Jack's boys had it before. So I took Billy over to Jack and we tried the best we could to make him get better. In the morning he never woke up. That kid was like a little brother to me, he was taken so soon. Jack tried to help, so I owe this to him." Spot shut up. He knew he was going to cry if he talked any more."

"I'm so sorry." Race's heart broke. He never knew this side of Spot before.

"Don't sweat it, just get to bed," Spot said as he left the room. He wasn't going to cry in front of Race.

Race laid back down in the bed. Maybe Brooklyn really wasn't as bad as he thought.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope ya liked it! :)


End file.
